


Totally Fine

by AJuicyContradiction



Series: Fine [1]
Category: Avengers
Genre: F/M, M/M, Peter never listens, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-12
Updated: 2013-02-12
Packaged: 2017-11-29 01:02:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/680909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AJuicyContradiction/pseuds/AJuicyContradiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter's sick, but he'll be fine.....probably</p>
            </blockquote>





	Totally Fine

He couldn’t breathe, every muscle ached and his skin felt as though it were on fire. The thought of food was enough to make his stomach roil. Peter fought the urge to collapse and instead stood up straighter, pacing the rooftop with his arms folded above his head. 

“Just breathe, Parker.” He murmured to himself, attempting to take deep breaths and praying that he wouldn’t pass out on his way home. The world tilted and he caught himself with his right arm as he lowered himself to the ground, maybe he should just ride the subway. 

His phone buzzed at the back of his head. Gwen made it put him there, she said it would serve as extra motivation, “because even if you don’t care about your own safety, Parker, I know you care about your phone.” He ripped his mask off, taking another breath to appreciate the burst of fresh air.  
Wade Wilson

Red alert Petey, or red and gold. Daddy’s heading back!

He swore to himself as he pulled his mask back on. They knew he was sick, they’d even agreed that they’d let him go to class tomorrow, as long as he didn’t go out as Spiderman. He pushed himself back up, barely stifling a groan as his legs screamed in protest. This wasn’t going to be fun.

He only had to stop twice on the way home, first to puke, and again because he’d headed back the wrong way. Maybe it wasn’t such a great idea to swing around the city when you can’t tell which way is up, he thought. He threw his suit into the trunk at the foot of his bed before collapsing on top of the covers. 

“Stats JARVIS?” he croaked.

“Your heart rate is elevated and your temperature has increased four degrees since it was last taken. It now sits at 106 degrees Fahrenheit.”   
Great, Peter thought, all he wanted was to go to sleep, but if Dad or Pops came in, and they would, and found him with a 106 degree fever, he’d never be allowed to leave his bed. He pushed himself up with a groan, ice pack it is. 

He barely made it to the kitchen. Thankfully, when he stumbled in and collapsed against the fridge, the room was empty. He pulled an ice pack from the freezer and pressed it to the back of his neck, collapsing into a barstool and letting his cheek press against the cool granite counter top. It was heaven, but he certainly hadn’t intended to fall asleep. 

Peter jolted awake when a hand griped his shoulder, giving him a sharp jerk.   
“Peter,” His Dad snapped, looking down, his expression was screaming “concerned parent,” so loudly it almost hurt to watch, or maybe his head hurt anyway.

“Sup Dad,” Peter mumbled as he pulled himself upright, but only barely. He grabbed for the, now melted, icepack that was resting at the base of his neck. It was warm, dammit. 

“You ok buddy?” Tony asked, feeling his son’s forehead with the back of his hand. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” Peter croaked, “always what I want to hear.” Surely his throat was bleeding, nothing should hurt that much. He moved to stand up, but found that his legs would no longer support his weight. He ended up collapsing onto his father, even though he was taller than the older man at this point.

“Jesus kid,” Tony grunted, now bearing nearly the full weight of his son, “how did you even get downstairs?” He asked as he set Peter on the couch.

“Sheer force of will,” Peter croaked. 

“JARVIS, medical scan for Peter.” Tony called up as he sat on the couch next to his son’s feet. 

“Mr. Parker has an elevated heart rate and temperature consistent with the most common strain of influenza, along with multiple bruises and lacerations to his torso and arms.”  
Tony almost didn’t say anything, because of course the kid of Iron Man and Captain America wouldn’t follow directions. He was sixteen and the child of Tony Stark, of course he wasn’t going to listen, and he was the child of Captain America, of course he wouldn’t forsake his superhero duties, even at the risk of his own health. He almost didn’t say anything, almost.

“Peter,” Tony said, struggling to keep his voice even, “you want to tell me anything?”


End file.
